


Leave of Advance

by RenkonNairu



Series: Utopia Has Fallen [3]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Bellwether is basically Trump, Bellwether won, Dictatorship, Drama, F/M, Gen, Human Rights, Mammal Rights, Melodrama, Nick is Robin Hood, Racism, Savage Nick Wilde, Speciesism, Tag may contain spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:58:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7604374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenkonNairu/pseuds/RenkonNairu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Judy and Finnick managed to rescue Nick and some of the other Savages from from the hospital. But Bellwether's still in power, TAME collars are still in use... and things will still get worse before they get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sitting Isn't a Solution

_Many Years Ago..._

The image was a bit fuzzy. But then, this call was being bounced off of two satellites to reach the middle of the Iberian desert. Dawn gazed as the distorted feed that would fizzle every now and again. It was good to see him. Seven months on tour was just to long to be parted from her husband. 

“Are you about to go on a mission?” She asked him, noting that he was wearing a flak vest over his desert fatigues. 

He gave a sheepish laugh. “I, uh, I can't really talk about it, babe.” 

Dawn chewed on her bottom lip with nerves. Seven months on tour, far away from home, and safety, and her. In the middle of the desert, surrounded by hostile Iberian lynx natives. Now leaving the base, going out and seeking conflict on an operation she couldn't ask about. It was all Dawn could do to worry. “But Doug's going with you, right?”

“Again, can't talk about it.” He shook his head. “This is an unsecure comm and its an active op. Come on, babe, you know the rules.” 

Lowering her eyes, Dawn nodded. She knew the rules. Never talk about active operations over telecoms. Never tell your family back home what you're actually doing. Just give them proof of life every now and again. 

Someone off screen made an off-color comment about how long he was taking with his wife. There were others who wanted to call their families before they moved out. Someone threw a balled-up bandanna at him. 

“Listen, baby, I gotta go. Woolter and Jess still gotta call their girls.” He told her. “But I love you! I can't wait to see you again, and when I get home we're gonna make beautiful babies!”

The inside of Dawn's ears pinked at that announcement, knowing that whomever was in the tent with him heard everything. “Okay. I love you too. Be safe!”

That was the last time Dawn Bellwether saw her husband alive. 

…

_Present Day..._

“It has been one week since the Savage Escape from Zootopia General.” Fabienne Growley folded her pause on the glass studio table and kept her face completely straight as she gave the evening news highlights. The warning light on her collar remained, green as she spoke. A welcome change from the yellow it had been a few days earlier when she reported on the hospital fire that killed eight of the Savage predators and injured several other Mammals -both patients and hospital employees alike. “While six of the escaped Savages have been apprehended and remain under carful police guard, supervised directly by Chief of Police, Westley Bogo, three Savages still remain at large.”

Head shots of Emmitt Otterton, Renato Manchas, and Nickolas Wilde appeared on the TV screen beside Growley. 

“They are considered extremely dangerous.” She continued. Growley tried to glare soberly into the camera, but succeeded in just glaring. “If you see them, do not approach them. Call the police and report them immediately. Chief Bogo has set up a special hotline specifically for Savage emergencies.” The number scrolled across the bottom of the screen. “Once again, they are considered extremely dangerous. Do not approach them yourself.”

Their head shots stayed on screen for a few more moments after Growley finished, the hotline number scrolling across the screen one more time before the camera panned right to her co-anchor, Peter Moosebridge. 

The moose cleared his throat. “In response to the Savage escape that resulted in a fire, claiming the lives of eight Mammals and injuring several more, Mayor Bellwether held a press conference yesterday promising more aggressive action against the Savage crisis and stricter regulations for at-risk citizens.” He did not specify that 'at-risk' citizens were exclusively predators, it went without saying. “Here's a clip.”

The screen faded from the image of Growley and Moosebridge sitting at the News Room table, replacing them with a full-screen clip from Bellwether's speech from the previous day. She stood at a podium in front of City Hall, four officers of the ZPD -none of them predators- standing behind her, watching the crowd critically. 

“Public reports routinely state that great amounts of crime are being committed by predators. This must be stopped and it must be stopped now!” She proclaimed, not making a single reference to the Savage crisis at all. “Predators have lots of problems. They're coming into out city and they're bringing their problems with them. They're bringing crime, they're bringing drugs. They are rapists. They're not sending you or me, they're sending their worst of the worst.”

The crowd roared at that statement. But it wasn't a roar of outrage, or offense, or even just disagreement. It was the exact opposite, in fact. The crowd was cheering. Cheering! With agreement -even approval- of Bellwether's mass generalizations of a marginalized group that was currently out of public favor. 

“Because of this, I'm implementing a total and complete shut down of predators entering Zootopia until our scientists can figure out what is going on.”

And the crowd went wild again.

“Dad, can you turn that off.” Judy growled as she and a handful of her sisters helped their mother put the second round of breakfasts out on the table.

The Hopps family was so large, Bonnie had arranged a system wherein the children were divided up into groups and fed in shifts. First breakfast shift were the older siblings. The ones tall enough and strong enough to not need a grown-up's help, and mature enough to be trusted without adult supervision. The second shift were the ones Stu would take out and work with directly, show them how they would run farms of their own one day. The third shift was the children to young to be trusted with any kind of -important- work regardless of supervision. 

It was the second group that Judy and her siblings were helping their mother serve.

“I just think its a good idea to stay informed about what's going on in the world.” Stu informed his daughter. “Especially with your... guests visiting.” 

“That's fine, but I don't want the munchkins getting it in their heads that Nick and the others are bad guys.” She informed her father sternly. 

Placings her paws on her hips and giving the older bunny a Look that reminded Stu so muck of her mother. If Judy had settled and become a proper bunny wife to a reputable bunny buck and mother to her own herd of bunny babies -like he and Bonnie wanted- there was no doubt in his mind that she would have been the ultimate and unquestionable authority in her home. Stu was very proud of his daughter for breaking the traditional bunny mold, making history as the first bunny police officer, and became a hero to the city of Zootopia. But he still lamented the fact that she never followed in her parents' footsteps. 

“If there's ever going to be any progress, we need to stop fear mongering.” Judy continued. “Predators are no worse than any other Mammals.” A pause. “Just look at Gideon Gray! He's your business partner and he's a fox.”

“Speaking of...” Bonnie cut in between her daughter and her husband. She set two more plates on the table. “Xander! Slow down and chew your food!” She wiped her paws on an already dirty dish towel and turned to Judy. “What if we asked Gideon if your predator friends could stay with him? I'm sure it would make them feel more comfortable.”

Which meant it would make her parents more comfortable. 

Of course, staying in Gideon's fox den below his bakery might actually be more comfortable for them than when they were currently staying. The fact that one of them -Mr. Manchas- was to large to fit in the warren aside, Bonnie and Stu refused to allow the four predators Judy brought with her from Zootopia deeper into the burrow than the surface-level family room, kitchen, and dining room. Instead, her parents set up four cots in the drying house and invited them to bunk there -away from the main family home.

“First of all, that would involve more Mammals knowing I'm alive and that we're harboring fugitives.” She said, getting the lesser objection out of the way first. “Secondly, you can't just ask a business partner that you're not actually personal friends with to harbor fugitives for you!”

One would think something like that would be obvious. 

Judy wrapped four plates in tinfoil and stacked them on top of each other. Grabbing a handful of forks, she navigated her way around smaller bunnies and out of the kitchen. “Now, if you'll excuse me. I'm going to go and take some breakfast out to our guests before you two suddenly decide to start ranting about how they'll try and eat us if they get hungry. Or whatever other stupid scenario you can think of.”

She kicked the door open. Not because she was frustrated with her parents, but because she didn't have a free paw with which to use the knob. 

The sun had been up for a good hour already -a perfectly reasonable time for rabbits to not only be awake but also showered, dressed, and ready to start their day. But she knew that when she got to the drying house, Nick and the others would either still be asleep, or else still be awake. They were all either nocturnal as in the case of Nick and Finnick, or diurnal as in the case of Otterton and Manchas. After only just a week hiding out at the Hopps family farm, they hadn't yet adjusted to the shift in schedule. 

The drying house was a wide, above ground building, made of brick, with many small windows set high in the walls for air flow. Her family used it for drying and storing herbs before they could be ground down into course powders and sold by the ounce at her family's stand. 

Judy pushed open the door without bothering to knock and stepped inside. The scent of parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme was the first thing to hit her as she stepped onto the hardwood floorboards, and the bunny had to wonder -not for the first time- how the strong scent of herbs affected Nick and Finnick's much more sensitive canid noses. 

As expected, Finnick was fast asleep. Curled up on his cot, snoring loudly -far louder than his size would have implied. Manchas was also asleep, his body overflowing from his cot. The two foxes and the otter were Mammals of a size comparable to a bunny's, and so it was much easier to provide things for them such as, blankets, clothes, heck, even just shelter. Manchas, on the other paw, couldn't even stand fully in the drying house because, while it was taller than the average bunny structure, it was still a bunny structure. Made by bunnies, for bunny use. No one ever imagined trying to fit a black jaguar in it. 

Otterton was sitting up on his cot, eyes closed, legs cross, paws folded in his lap. The posture of meditation. He didn't move when Judy entered, or make any indication that he even knew she was there for that matter. She knew he was a member of a naturalist club in Zootopia and attended yoga classes there, but she never really realized just how seriously the otter took his yoga stretches and meditation. Personally, she didn't see the appeal. But whatever it was -inner peace, or higher understanding, or whatever- Judy had to admit that he was taking their exile from the city best out of the lot of them. Even better than Judy herself. 

Not wanting to disturb his meditations, the rabbit placed his breakfast plate and fork on the end of his cot. Manchas' and Finnick's she laid on the floor near their heads, then she turned to Nick. 

Nick only Mammal who was actually awake, up, and alert. 

Probably because he hadn't actually gone to sleep the night before. This had been going on for a solid week now. Ever since escaping the hospital fire and getting out of the city, Nick had gone full-nocturnal. Staying up all night and only going to sleep in the early hours of the morning when the sun creeped over the farm and all the little bunnies started to rise and scamper over the land. 

He sat on the wood floor next to his cot. At some point in the last week, he managed to pry up one of the floorboards and was using the space beneath it to hide their leftover cash. During their stay Nick had also added to their cache of cash, a map of Bunnyburrow Town, and a map of the surrounding county. Both looked like the little touristy maps a Mammal could pick up at any visitors' center in town. Next to these, was a spiral bound notebook that the fox was currently sketching in. 

Coming up behind him and peering over his shoulder, Judy saw that the page he was currently working on was a hand-drawn map of her family's farm with notes here and there 'good hiding place' over the corn field, 'escape to river' along the natural irrigation system they dug the year before she left for the academy, 'hide emergency go-bag' next to an old oak tree that had been on the property since forever. 

Judy had a feeling he had been prowling around the property at night. Since he refused to sleep when everyone else was, like a normal civilized Mammal. He had to be doing something with his time. Apparently, he was familiarizing himself with her family's property and planning for contingencies. 

“You shouldn't sneak up on a predator.” He growled without turning around. 

She huffed. Placing one paw on her hip while she held his breakfast and fork in the other. “Oh, please. Tell me you didn't know I was here the moment I entered.”

The fox grumbled something Judy was pretty sure she wasn't actually supposed to hear, but thanks to her ungodly rabbit ears she caught anyway. “Smelled you before you even got to the door.” and “Nose's been more sensitive since the Night Howler.”

He didn't look at her as he started to pack away his notebook and maps. Tucking everything back into its hide y-ho in the floor. He laid the needlepoint portrait of Robin Goodfellow over everything before securing the loose floorboard back in place. 

As Judy understood it, Goodfellow was a trickster fae -a faerie. But the way Nick and Finnick talked about him, you'd think he was a lesser pagan god instead. The patron deity to foxes, juvenile pranksters, and con artists. She thought the patron deity of foxes bit was a little odd since -in the portrait at least- Goodfellow didn't appear to be all fox. Oh, he had a fox's face and ears. But also the horns of a stag, and -it was a little hard to tell since the image was embroidered not painted painted- but his fur read more like the red leaves of Autumn rather than actual fur. Then again, he was a mythical figure. He could look like whatever the artist wanted him to look like. 

She set the plate down on the floor next to him. “This is supposed to be breakfast, but I see since you never went to bed, it'd ben dinner instead. Eggs, again. Eat them before they get cold.”

The four predators had spent the past week at the Hopps' farm eating mostly eggs. Being the closest food to meat that a bunny could buy at the market without looking suspicious. Rabbits didn't eat fish or poultry, but they did bake, and baking required eggs. Considering that the Hopps family herd was hundreds strong, nobody bat an eyelash when Bonnie Hopps bought eggs by the ten-dozen.

They still hadn't worked out the kinks in this plan of laying low until Chief Bogo could expose Bellwether's conspiracy and they could return to the city. It wasn't exactly like Judy planned this -or even had any warning. Things just sort of happened, and her parents were so happy that their daughter was alive and not really dead that they were willing to tolerate a few predators on their property for a while. 

Yawning, mouth opening wide, displaying all those lovely sharp teeth with their delicate points that frightened her parents so much, Nick Picked up the plate and peeled back the tin foil. 

“You didn't cook this.” It wasn't a question. The fried eggs over medium next to potatoes looked to perfect. Judy Hopps was many things, but a perfect cook was not one of them. 

“My mother cooked.” She informed him, just a little insulted by how relived he sounded to not have to eat her cooking. “I was on juice duty this morning.”

“Ooh! What kind of juice?” Nick asked excitedly, suddenly noticing that she hadn't brought a pitcher or any glasses with her. That wasn't fair. There was fresh squeezed country juice and she wasn't going to share. Rude bunny.

“Carrot juice.” Judy supplied as if that should have been obvious. She knew better that to offer the fox carrots in ant form. His tastes ran towards sweeter produce. Fruits. Grapes, cherries, apples, and of course blueberries. 

Nick made a face of disgust. “This hotel sucks. I demand a refund! And you can forget about me telling my friends about this place.”

Someone threw a balled up t-shirt in their general direction. Judy looked to see Finnick rolling over on his cot, turning his back to them while he grumbled. “Save your foreplay for when you're alone!”

Not saying anything, Nick set his plate back down and began unfolding and setting up his own cot to finally get some rest. Full nocturnal. He'd gone full nocturnal since escaping the hospital and fleeing the city. Staying up all night, sleeping during the day.

Judy's ears pinked at the mention of foreplay and the implication that she and Nick were anything more to each other than just good friends. It wasn't the first time someone jumped to the same conclusion about them. The day they left the city, just as she and Finnick were getting ready to spring their rescue, Koslov -Mr. Big's right hand Mammal- made the exact same assumption about the nature of their relationship. 

'Save the one you love.'

The idea of being 'in love' with the fox hadn't even crossed Judy's mind until the polar bear said it. The idea of being in love with any Mammal besides another rabbit never crossed her mind. It was completely absurd. Ridiculous. To fall for someone outside your own species -or even your own genus. But since then -since the idea was placed in her head- Judy found herself sometimes wondering. 

She thought about his expression at the press conference. He liked to brag that he had such a great pokerface, that he never let anyone see how they got to him. But she saw. She got to him that day. She got at something deep inside him, poked at it with a sharp stick without even knowing what she was doing. And when she realized how deeply she had hurt him, it shook something inside her. Some deep foundation in her core that she thought was so stable and so secure -until she met him. Judy hurt herself when she hurt Nick. 

But it wasn't just that. She thought about her cathartic release under the bridge when she apologized to him. How she broke down into tears and told him that it was okay if he never wanted to see her again. Judith Lavern Hopps was not one easily given over to tears or fits of hysterics. Yet she sobbed openly in front of Nick and didn't pull away when he offered her a hug -accepting their reconciliation and comforting her tears. 

Judy watched him set up his cot before sitting down and scooping up his plate of breakfast-dinner. She did feel something for the fox. There was something there. She just wasn't ready to assign the word 'love' to it.

Things had been so crazy since she first met him. Blackmail, nudist clubs, near death experiences, cracking cases only to have them give rise to larger conspiracies, species tensions, propaganda campaigns, resigning from jobs, reconciling, more near death experiences, faking death and laying low, riots in the streets, and yet more near death experiences. So much had happened, Judy had to forcibly remind herself that she and the fox had only known each other for a few months. Whatever it was that she was feeling for Nick, it was far to soon to start applying the word 'love' to it. 

“So, what's been going on in the world since we left?” He asked through a mouthful of eggs. “Are they blaming the hospital fire on us and branding us terrorists?”

“Probably. They honestly haven't talked much about the fire since we got here.” Judy admitted. “At least, not that I've been inside to hear. Bellwether was on the news this morning. Apparently she's now banned new predators from even entering the city. Although, there was no mention as to what she plans to do with the predators that already live there.”

“Oh, well that's not gonna have a negative effect on the economy at all.” Nick scoffed. “I really have to wonder what her end-game is. I mean, prejudice is great and all-” his classic sarcasm “-but when it comes to motives, its just not enough to explain what she's doing.”

“Well, tell ya what, when Chief Bogo finally arrests her, you can ask.” The bunny suggested. She turned to leave. He needed his rest -not that she was particularly happy about his switch to nocturnal- and she had other chores to do. As far as the rest of the world knew Officer Judy Hopps of the ZPD was dead, killed by a Savage fox. But her parents knew she was alive and so long as she was not only living, but living under their hill she could help out on the farm just like all her other siblings. 

“Carrots...?” 

Judy paused, turning back to the fox. He sat on his cot, half-eaten plate of dinner-breakfast on his lap. For some reason he looked suddenly so vulnerable and unsure. 

“Waiting for Chief Buffalobutt to fix everything for us isn't a plan.” He informed her soberly, not making eye-contact. “I just... I know you're still adjusting to your newfound fugitive status, but... we need to have a plan. Several plans. In case Bogo can't actually do anything. In case we have to live like this indefinitely. In case someone turns us in. In case one of us looses control and goes back to being Savage. We need to have contingencies.” Now he did look up at her, meeting her large amethyst eyes with his emerald green ones. “I'm really grateful to you for rescuing me. But a lot of everything has just been you making it up as you go along -you don't actually know what you're doing, and... I guess I just wanna know if you're actually making a plan this time.”

He didn't mention that the majority of her decisions prior to rescuing him from the hospital were also made on impulse and without forethought or planning. Stealing the subway car, grabbing her family truck and hauling tail back to the city, essentially announcing 'its because they're predators' to the mass media, breaking into an abandoned hospital crawling with timber-wolf security, attempting (and failing) to intimidate Mr. Big. Heck! Even taking the Otterton case in the first place was a snap, spur of the moment decision that she didn't think about, she just made. Judy was a creature of impulse. Nick didn't really know just how well she would handle being a fugitive in the long term. 

Judy Hopps was a creature of the moment, she thrived by actions. Nick Wilde was a creature of scheming, he thrived by gambits. The two were not an ideal combination, and Nick had never been very good at speed-chess. 

The bunny's eyes flicked to the loose floorboard and his notebook, cash, and maps. “Do you have a different plan?”

“No.” He admitted. “But I know what needs to be done when you wanna hide from the authorities.” A pause. “Which I've never had to do, by the way.”

Sure. 

Judy was silent a moment longer. Thinking. Then, “I want things to go back to the way they were, so... so if Bogo can't expose Bellwether alone, I'll go back to the city and help.”

Nick did not point out that, that was not actually a plan. That was another reckless decision, a premeditated reckless decision and that made it worse. What did she expect to do with her status as legally dead at best, and Zootopia's most wanted at worst? Was she gonna stalk the streets in a garish costume? The fox couldn't imagined her as a masked vigilante. She was no Robin Hood. Nick flicked an ear and looked down at the floorboard that held his emergency cash and other useful information. It was also where he was keeping his mother's portrait of the Goodfellow -Trickster of the Greenwood. 

But then, it wasn't like he could suggest any alternatives. Slick Nick didn't have a plan either. He, also, was no Robin Under the Hood.


	2. Well, That Escalated Quickly

Gazelle checked out of the hospital AMA -against medical advice. She didn't care. She was going to Ashok's funeral even if it killed her. It wouldn't kill her, of course, but it might hinder her healing. The pop diva hobbled up to his casket on crutches that threatened to rip open her stitched with every step.

They placed chandanam over his forehead and wreaths of flowers around his neck and head, and as Gazelle drew closer to the casket, she detected the subtle scent of fresh basil. So, they had decided to go with a traditional funeral. She placed a pinda in the casket, next to his head. Others had already done similar. She rested a hoof on the edge of the casket, making sure not to touch the body, and recited a short hymn. One of the few that she knew. 

Someone placed a comforting paw on her shoulder. Orange and cream fur with black tiger stripes. Gazelle turned to see who it was, expecting one of Ashok's relatives. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised.

“Park.”

Sun-ha Park was one of Gazelle's back-up dancers. The 'fan book' their manager insisted they publish described him as the 'quiet and mysterious' one. But, actually, Park was just introverted and socially awkward. He avoided eye-contact, talking more to her crutches than to her face. “Can I have a hug?”

They hadn't seen each other since the night of the concert. 

Gazelle shifted her crutches so that she was holding both with one arm and opened the other to invite Park in. The tiger was twice her size and completely dwarfed her with his muscle and bulk, but it felt good to be held by another Mammal. A Mammal she knew, and worked with, and loved like a brother. Ashok might have been her true love, Gazelle loved all the tigers of her herd. 

“I've been having nightmares.” He whispered into her ear. “I keep seeing Rod-” he choked and held her tighter causing a pain in his stitches. “I keep seeing it happen.”

“Shh, shh.” The pop diva soothed, rubbing circles into his shoulder. She ignored the pain pulsing across her chest and mid-section, and down her leg. It was what she got for leaving the hospital against her doctor's advice. Besides, Park's emotional state was more important at the moment. So was hers, for that matter. Emotional wounds were harder to heal than physical ones. “I have nightmares too. I can only imagine what Raj must be going through.”

Ashok was his brother -from the same litter. 

Park held her for a few moments more. Then straightened, wiping his eyes. He cleared his throat and when he spoke again his voice was even. “He's still angry. Like, really angry. Their parents asked him not to attend the cremation incase his negative energy interfered with his Ātman leaving the body.”

“That's terrible!” Gazelle exclaimed. She shifted her crutches back to a position she could use to walk. “Where is he now?”

“Back at the apartment.” Park supplied. “Since he can't beat-up Rod, he's been satisfying himself breaking all his stuff.” A pause. “If I'd known they were discharging you today, I would have picked you up.”

She shook her head. “They didn't discharge me, I checked myself out. I needed- I wasn't gonna miss saying goodbye to-” Her voice cracked and Gazelle put a hoof over her eyes to hide her tears. “The whole point is to not be reincarnated, right? So... so I may never see him again!”

Park's arm was around her again, the tiger leading her away from the casket. They stood to the side, out of the way of the other mourners. 

There was no service. 

After the wake, the casket was carried to the pyre and Ashok's body cremated. Gazelle insisted on staying for the whole thing -until it was done and his ashes were collected. The ashes were taken by his parents. They would commit his remains to water. There was a river that cut through the Rainforest District that would serve their purpose. They did not invite Gazelle to come with them and she did not ask. His parents never really approved of their son dating outside the species -and a prey at that. The few times she interacted with Ashok and Raj's parents, they were polite to her. They respected her because their son cared about her, but they did not like her. 

Gazelle was also fairly certain they blamed her -at least in part- for his death. After all, if Ashok had just kept to his physical therapy practice and not given up the perfectly reputable business to be a go-go dancer, then he wouldn't have been on stage when the other time went Savage. 

After the cremation, Gazelle finally let Park take her home. 

It was the first time the pop diva had been home since the attack. 

A luxurious penthouse apartment in Savannah Square. Four bedrooms, two baths, full kitchen plus dining room, spacious living room and rooftop patio. The space was under Gazelle's name, but all five of them lived there. Her and the four most important Mammals in her life. Her herd. A herd of predators. Sun-ha Park, Rodrigo Colmillo, Rajesh Patel, and... and Ashok Patel. Now ti was just the three of them. Now that Ashok was gone (she couldn't bring herself to use the word 'dead' not even in her own mind), and Rod -along with all the other Savages that survived the fire- was moved to a much more secure psychiatric facility. Now it was just her, Park, and Raj. 

Park held the door open for her and Gazelle hobbled inside on her crutches -to find the place a compete mess. 

Empty beer cans and liquor bottles were strewn all over the living room floor, coffee table, and couch. As were days old, half eaten pizza. Flies circled the boxes, searching for the best place to land on the sticky, congealed grease. Gazelle blinked in horror at finding her home in such a state of... disarray! 

“Sorry about the mess.” Park muttered, legitimately apologetic and embarrassed. “If I'd know you were coming home today, I would have made him clean up a little.” 

“Where is he?”

As if on cue, the refrigerator door closed to reveal the tiger that was concealed behind it. Raj shambled out of the kitchen, a fresh can of beer in his hand. Shirtless, wearing a pair of PJ pants that looked like they hadn't been washed in days, fur rumpled from lack of care. He looked Gazelle up and down.

“You look like something the me dragged in.” The tiger announced before popping the top of his beer can and taking one long sip. He paused to burp loudly, then took another -longer- sip. 

Gazelle crossed the space between them, slowly and awkwardly. She'd been standing far to long already, her crutches threatening to pull her stitches with every step. But some things were more important than physical pain. She wrapped one arm around the larger Mammal and pulled him into a hug. “How are you holding up?”

Raj gave a snort of derision. His hot breath making the fur on her back stand on end. “How am I holding up? Ha! That's cute. You think I'm holding up!”

“I know.” Gazelle soothed. “I know. I miss him too.”

“Oh, you miss him!” Raj pulled away with a snarl. The warning light of his collar shifting from green to yellow. “It was you that got him killed! Ash wanted to leave the city! Get away for a while, wait for things to blow over. But you just had to stay. You with your bleeding heart that love all. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have been on that stage when Rod when bonkers! If Ash wasn't trying to protect you, he would still be alive right now. My brother died because of you!”

“Hey!” Park stepped between them. “You don't mean that.”

“Oh, don't I?” Raj growled back. He jabbed a clawed finger at the collar around his neck, then at the one Park also worse. “Why don't you tell her what happened as a result of that concert fiasco? Do you know, 'Zelle? Did they let you watch the news during your convalescents? Thanks to Rod attacking you and Ash getting killed, now we all have to wear these damn things. These collars to tell you when we're emotionally compromised and could get aggressive. Oh, but it doesn't stop there. Oh, no. If we do get to worked up, the thing shocks us. And not a small jolt either!”

“Calm down, unless you intend to demonstrate for her.” Park snapped. He turned back to Gazelle. “Its not just the collars. You noticed how they stopped us as we were leaving the Rainforest District to check my ID and make a note of where we were going? Well, they're doing that for all predators too. We aren't as free to move around the city as we used to be. Are movements are being monitored. No one's tried to actually stop us so far, but still... the whole things makes me very uncomfortable.” 

“We should have just left like Ash wanted!” Raj cut in. The light on his collar was still yellow, but he at least seemed calmer. 

“All this happened because Rod attacked me...” Gazelle dropped her crutches and sank to her knees on the floor. She wrapped an arm around her mid-section, hoof resting over the deep claw marks Rod had left there when he went Savage. “I never thought... I was trying to make things better! How did this... why is this happening?”

She began to cry. 

Park shot Raj a dirty look. 'Look what you did.' He also wank to his knees next to her. “'Zelle, you couldn't have know this was going to happen.” 

But it did happen, and it happened because of her. “I should have just left when Ashok suggested it. Gone on tour. Gotten away from the city for a while. It's all my fault.”

“Yeah. It is.” Raj agreed. He took another sip of his beer and stepped away. 

“You're not helping!” Park shouted after him. 

But Raj just slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Gazelle stayed on the floor, sobbing. She lost her love and it was all because of her. Because she insisted on having a charity concert to try and raise money to figure out what was causing predators to go Savage. She should have just washed her hooves of it all and left. But she was stubborn and insisted they stay. Because of her, Ashok was dead and Rod was crazy. 

Gazelle didn't know what to do anymore. 

…

'Stricter regulations for at-risk citizens'. Those were the words used to describe the newest round of laws passed into legislation as a result of the Savage escape and fire. No one bothered to mention that the only citizens whom were 'at-risk' were predators and predators only. 

As one reporter asked in a throw-away question that was never answered at the fateful press conference that stated this whole mess, a mandatory quarantine was implemented on all predators. 

There was no one place in the city where they could stick every single predator that lived in Zootopia. Not even Happy Town could hold all of them. Not to mention, there were still those that thought it would be cruel to force Mammals live outside their natural biome. You couldn't expect a polar bear to live in the scorching hot sands of Sahara Square. Making Mammals live in places not designed for them was cruel, but evicting them from their homes and moving them into hastily thrown together and ill maintained government housing? That was A-okay! 

A section within each district was cordoned off for use as a quarantine zone. A chainlink fence hastily erected around the neighborhood's perimeter, the windows of some apartments boarded up on the outward facing side. Each zone only had one gate through the fence. Predators still had to be able to get in and out. Life didn't stop just because the city hated them. Adults still had to work. Cubs, and pups, and kits still had school. But the gates shut and locked at nine PM. The quarantine zones all had strict curfews. 

As with the TAME collars, predators were given time to set their affairs in order before moving into their new homes in quarantine. If they did not, or if it took them to long, their property was seized by the city and redistributed. 

…

“Wait a sec, you want me to buy your house!?” Primal sat on Silver's porch -because like hell was he going to go inside that spiker infested cavern that Dr. Scott Silvers, entomologist, called a home. Calling it a 'cavern' was unfair. It was a very nice rustic cabin, nestled between two large redwoods. Hand-made wooden rocking chairs on the front porch. Exactly the kind of house you'd expect a wolf to live in. It was just Silver's unusual fondness for spiders that made it seem otherwise. The gorilla stared at his friend, not quite understanding.

“I'll give you a good price.” The timber wolf assured him. “Way bellow market value. I just... I don't have a lot of time to get this done and I know the sale won't close before I have to move. But if the purchase is at least on record then they won't take it away from me -uh, you.”

The warning light on Silver's TAME collar shifted from green to yellow. Primal could only imagine what the wolf must be feeling. Not only being forced from his home, but having to sell his property for far less than what it was worth or else forfeit it to the government. 

Primal shook his head. It was like the world woke up one morning and decided, 'Hey, lets all go bat-shite insane!' “I can't believe they're actually putting predators under quarantine.”

“Call it what it is, Primal, we're both of us far to old to be sugar-coating things.” Silvers snapped at him, sitting up in his rocking chair and glaring directly at his friend. “Its a ghetto. They're moving predators into ghettos. That's exactly what they're doing and calling it 'quarantine' doesn't change that. Its 2016 and they're setting up ghettos -here, in our city- and everyone is just letting it happen!”

The light on his collar flashed red and Silvers was shocked back into his chair. It rocked back and forth while the wolf recovered.

“First these damnable collars that not only taser us any time we're just a little worked up, but also mark us as predators like a yellow badge.” He rubbed a paw over his eyes. “Did you know an otter was a predator before one went Savage? I didn't. They're so adorable and small. I didn't realize a lot of smaller Mammals were predators before the collars went on. Weasel, and mongooses -mongeese?- and stoats. I had no idea they were predators until the collars went on.”

“Mongooses is the correct plural.” Primal supplied absentmindedly. “And, actually, I did know all that. I'm a surgeon. But I get your meaning.”

“I also want you to buy my reenactment costume and props off me.” The wolf continued. 

That was how he and the gorilla originally met and became friends. Through a historical war reenactment group. Specifically for a period many historians considered to be the start of the trend that eventually gave rise to modern society of prey and predators living and working together. A group mixed of prey and predator Mammals banded together to defend themselves against an encroaching army that was exclusively predator. Maximalus versus the Preda Kahn. More commonly it was known simply as, the Beast Wars. It was a short war, lasting only three seasons. But it was of great historical significance. 

“I'm not going to the quarantine zone. My brother-in-law managed to get some exit visas for the whole pack. We're leaving Zootopia and I don't think they'll have a reenactment group where we're going.” Silvers used the more politically correct term to make his friend feel more at ease. “Give them to the next guy who wants to play Bolt.” 

“Silvers...” The gorilla began. He was going to refuse. Then he considered his friend's situation and his options, really considered them. It felt like he was taking advantage of a desperate Mammal, but from Silvers' point of view, he was doing him a favor. Buy my stuff from me, and if this madness ends in my lifetime let me buy it back from you when I come home. Instead he asked, “What are you gonna do?”

The wolf leaned back in his rocking chair. “Wolford's a cop, works for the city, that's how he managed to get us passes to leave so easily. The pack has made offers on properties in Deerbrook, Nimh, and Bunnyburrow. The first one that's accepted we're gonna take.” A spider crawled out of the window and began spinning its web in a corner of the porch canopy. Silvers looked up at it forlornly and Primal was horrified to see that it was a black widow. The wolf sighed. “I'll have to leave them behind. Oh, dark poison of my heart, I cannot bear to be parted from you.”

Massaging his temples, Primal looked away. The wolf was a good friend and pleasant company -most of the time. But whenever his damn spider fixation was involved, he became extremely uncomfortable to be around. 

“Well, I better go...” The gorilla stood. “I'm actually relieved that you're getting out of the city, and-” Primal paused, considering his words. “You said your brother-in-law's a cop? If you do end up in Bunnyburrow, he might want to look up the family Hopps. As I understand it, the bunny officer who died is from there. Wolford might want to pay his respects.”

The wolf likewise stood, seeing his guest off the property. “I'll tell him. Please, think about my offer. I'd rather sell to a friend for a pittance price than have the government seize it from me and leave me with nothing.”

Goodness knew the pack could use whatever extra funds it could get during their relocation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, for those of you that have been following this series since “Silent Civil War”, or maybe just the first chapter of this fic, you might remember my author's note about taking some reader feedback to heart and trying to speed-up the fic. After much deliberation and trying to revise my outline, I realized that its just not practical for my writing style. I'm a 'slow build' author. My fics are slow and when I try to change that it feels choppy and flows unnaturally to me. Also, when you rush things, you forget things. So, I gone back over and revised chapters one and two of this fic. If you are just tuning in as of this update, then this author's note is irrelevant to you and you need not worry. If you have been following this fic since its inception, I respectufully recommend you go back and re-read chapters one and two. Thank you.

_Several Years Ago..._

It was a lovely service. 

At least, as lovely as a government paid for military funeral could be. 

After the service, Dawn held a reception in her house. Mammals she was only loosely acquainted with told her how strong she was being and how his husband would be proud of her keeping it together. Mammals she only knew casually commented on how lovely her home was or how respectful the service had been. She served them all veggie plates and cheese dips. Deviled eggs for the predators that attended -of which there were few- and scones with clotted cream for those that had a sweet tooth. 

But really, all Dawn wanted was to corner the four other sheep that had been in her husband's unit, the four Mammals that had been with him when it happened. Doug Ramse, Woolter White, Maggie Muttonson, and Jesse Pinkman. Dawn was going to wring the truth out of them. 'Killed in action' wasn't an explanation, it was deflecting the question. 

She suffered through it, waiting for the last of the guests to meander out until it was only just those four left. 

Maggie was the first to stand. Putting down her half-empty beer that she'd been nursing all night and still hadn't finished. “I guess we better go too. We've imposed long enough.”

Doug also stood. He took one of Daen's hooves in both of his. “Listen, if you need anything, anything at all, just call me. Okay? I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for-”

“Sit back down.” Dawn commanded -snarled was really more like it, although her sheep's throat wasn't capable to producing the iconic predator sound. She turned to Maggie whom had started collecting the empty beer bottles and plastic Solo cups strewn around the sitting room. “You sit too!” All four of them seated with their full attention on her, Dawn lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper. “Now... you're going to tell me exactly what happened to my husband out there.”

…

_Present Day..._

“And where do you think you're going?”

Nick turned around to see Judy standing behind him, her paws on her hips, glaring at him sternly. 

The sun had set and most of Judy's family had gone to sleep. That was usually around the time Nick would leave the drying house out on his nocturnal activities. It took him a couple nights after first arriving in Bunnyburrow to figure out that, just because everyone else was asleep, it didn't mean he had to staying in bed and fain sleep as well. Especially since he didn't know the area or how long they would be staying here, and Carrots didn't seem to eager to tackle the big scary question of 'what if'. 

So, the fox started taking these opportunities, while the family was asleep -deep within the family warren, no little bunnies wondering the fields or property- to explore the terrain and plan for any likely contingencies. 

“Out.” Nick informed her with all the appearance of calm. As if he were just going for an innocent and introspective stroll in the moonlight. 

But the fox was really anything but calm. Even since she rescued him from the hospital, Nick noticed that he was never calm about the bunny anymore. The moment his nose would catch her scent, his heart would quicken and his stomach would twist with a feeling that he just didn't know how to interpret. He knew that whatever it was that snapped him out of the Night Howler madness wasn't a complete cure. He was lucid and mostly-sane now. But the other things the drug did to him were still there. His already keen sense of smell was stronger. His body held more endurance. His muscles could lift just a little more than they did before. And his instinct to aggression was much quicker. 

That was why Nick tried to keep away from Carrot's family as much as he could. Sleeping during the day while they were all out and about. Hopping all over the property and fields. Tempting his sensitive fox nose. It was why he stayed in the drying house until they had all disappeared into the warren. Why he only came out when he was sure there was no risk of happening across one by chance and... and... slipping the leash of his control. Nick didn't know what he might do, and the fact that he didn't know frightened him. 

And Carrots made everything worse. 

Because she wasn't just some nameless stranger. One bunny out of hundreds. No. She was the bunny he knew. She was his bunny (although he would never call her such out loud). If Nick slipped his control and hurt her... he already though he'd killed her once and it nearly broke him. If he really did -for real this time- it would just destroy him. 

But because he was the fox she knew, she wasn't scared. She would barge into the drying house uninvited and without knocking or warning of any kind. March right up behind him and lean over his shoulder. Invading his personal space with her delicious prey scent, and her soft rabbit fur, and her inviting body heat. 

There was that twist in his stomach again and Nick didn't know if it was because he wanted to eat her, or... something else. 

He turned away from her and struck out, heading for the old oak tree he'd found on one of his previous excursions. It was in the middle of one of their carrot fields. But instead of cutting it down, they had left it where it was and plowed around it. Planted their carrot crop around it. Nick wondered if they knew any of the old myths about oak trees, or if the decision to leave it was just because oak was a strong wood and be more effort than the bunnies were willing to expend to remove it. 

To the fox's great horror, the rabbit followed him. 

“What are you doing, Carrots?” He asked, not looking back at her. He kept his eyes to the ground, stepping between the rows of carrots, making sure not to step on any of their crop. 

“Following you. Obviously.” Judy replied. “I wanna know what you do all night.”

A tingling sensation went up his spine at the implication that she was going to spend 'all night' with him. That combined with the twisting in his stomach and his racing heart made Nick wonder how he was going to survive -or, more accurately, how she was going to survive. The fox didn't know if he actually was a danger to her or not and that was the terrifying part. 

“You can't be around me.” He informed her. 

“Why not?” Judy pressed. She hopped a bit to keep pace with his longer legs and wider stride. “Is this some dark and broody 'I don't deserve friends because I'm a monster' sort of thing? Because that trope is really annoying.”

That actually wasn't to far off from the truth. But only because he honestly didn't understand what was going on with himself and whether or not he actually was a danger to her or not. “No. Its a 'you're a bunny and I'm a fox and foxes eat bunnies' kind of thing.”

They were nearly at the tree now and Nick picked up his speed a bit. 

“That's absurd!” Carrots scoffed at his concerns. “Nick, this isn't a thousand years ago. You're not some old world predator warlord who's gonna kill and eat me, and wear my skin as a trophy.”

“No.” He agreed, he wasn't going to wear her skin as a trophy. They were at the tree now and he spun around at her suddenly, a threatening snarl marring his face. Lips pulled back, teeth displayed, growl rumbling out from the depth of his throat. “But I am Savage.”

She gasped, eyes going wide with surprise at his sudden turn. But she didn't take a step back or reach for fox repellant (which she wasn't carrying) like she did after the press conference. Instead, after she recovered from the suddenness, all the bunny did was tap him on the nose. As if he were an unruly kit that needed to be reprimanded. 

Nick blinked at her. That uncomfortable twist in his stomach relaxing just a little. The tension ebbing slightly. 

“You're not Savage, Nick.” She told him sternly. “You went through a terrible and traumatizing experience and you don't know how to cope with it. You're confused. You're not Savage.”

He thought about arguing the point further. Mentioning that he wasn't the one who was confused. She didn't know what she was doing. She had no plan. They were on the run, fugitives from the law, and she took them to the most obvious place they could go. She brought them back to her parents house. That was literally the first place they always checked. Carrots was a cop, she should have known that. She was the one who didn't know what she was doing. She was the one who was confused.

While he, on the other paw, was getting the lay of the land. Trying to figure out decent hiding places in case someone did come looking. Panning quick escape routs if they were turned in. And staking out the roads to track the patrol schedules of the county sheriff and Bunnyburrow police. 

That's what tonight's excursion was. 

The oak tree was a bit of a ways away from the road, but it was tall and if one climbed it, they had a perfect, unobstructed view of the highway. 

“You keep telling yourself I'm not Savage, Carrots.” He told her. Turning his back, Nick got a good hold with his claws and began climbing up the trunk. 

And to his great horror, the bunny tried to follow him. 

Climbing up the bark with her blunt bunny claws. Inevitably, her claws slipped on the trunk and she fell. 

Or rather, she would have fallen if Nick hadn't lanced out quickly to grab her wrist. She smiled up at him and the fox groaned in defeat as he pulled her up to the bough he was sitting on. If she was determined to follow him, then there was no getting rid of her. This was a fact he's already learned the hard way. Once Judy L. Hopps set her mind to something, she didn't relent until she got what she wanted. A smart fox would know when he didn't have a choice and just accept it.

“Thanks.” She settled next to him on the branch, facing the road. “See? A Savage would have just let me fall.”

Nick rolled his eyes. No. A Savage would have eaten her. But he chose to be the bigger Mammal and not comment or press the issue. At least, up in the tree, there was enough of a summer breeze to dilute her scent. So that she didn't fill his every sense with the sensation of bunny. Of a small body wrapped in soft fur. Of prey. 

A car passed on the road below them. A pick-up truck. Old. One of its tail lights was out. It wasn't a county sheriff vehicle or one of the BBPD. Nick ignored it, but he did take his notebook and a pen out, so that he'd be ready when one of the cares he was waiting for drove by. 

Judy huffed and rested her elbows on her knees, propping her chin in her paws. “So is this what you've been doing all night? Spying on the road.”

“I've been doing what you should have been doing.” The fox informed her. “Making sure we're prepared. Or have you forgotten that this charming little vacation to your parent's farm is because we're all wanted fugitives?”

“I haven't forgotten!” 

Now she was defensive. Her back straightening, scooching away from him on the narrow branch so that she could glare at him more easily. That was good. She was to comfortable around him. He was a danger to her. She should be on her guard, not trying to cuddle like they were- like they were- Nick didn't even know what they were. 

“Chief Bogo put me in charge of protecting you. You, Mr. Manchas, and Mr. Otterton. You're all material witnesses.” 

“We're also wanted fugitives, implicated in the hospital fire that nearly killed us and did kill a lot of other Mammals.” Nick reminded her. “You have to be prepared, you have to have a plan. But you don't. You've never been on the wrong side of the law before, Fluff. You don't know what you're doing. So I'm picking up your slack.”

Another car passed by. Heading in the opposite direction from the first. With his keen eye sight and night vision, enhanced by Night Howler, Nick could see that it had the star of a county sheriff printed on its side. He made a note of the time it drove by and the direction it was heading, and noted that it was the same as the previous night. Good. Consistency was good. He wished he'd started this sooner. Before news of their escape was broadcast on every TV in the tri-burrows area. He would have liked to know if this was their normal patrol activity or if anything had changed since their escape. But he could still make a workable plan with the information he had. 

Nick was slick that way.

“What are you writing?” The bunny asked. 

“Notes.” The fox replied, as if this should have been obvious. 

Judy once again groaned in irritation. “What kind of notes are you making? Since this information is apparently so important to our fugitive status. Clue me in to what you're doing.”

He found himself suppressing a growl of frustration. “I'm tracking police and sheriff patrols.” He informed her. “Increased patrols could mean they suspect us hiding out in the area. Decreased patrols could mean that we're in the clear or else they're trying to lull us into a false sense of security and set a trap.”

“You're such an optimistic and cheerful Mammal.” She cast him a sarcastic smile. 

“You asked.” He turned his attention back to the road.

She shrugged and did the same. 

Nothing passed by for some time. Judy stretched and yawned. Nick sketched oak leaves and acorns in the margins of the page he was on. Judy yawned again. 

“If you're tired, go back to the warren, Carrots.” The fox insisted. 

“I wanna stay and learn.” The bunny informed him. “Since you think I'm so deficient. Ya know, I've never been a fugitive before.”

“Well, technically, neither have I.” Nick informed her. “But I'm very smart-”

“And so modest.”

“-and it doesn't take much to figure out the things you should know or things you should do while on the run. We should not have come to your parents place. We should not stay in one place to long. We need to always be aware of whats around us and the police presence in the area.”

Judy avoided looking at him, focusing her attention on the road again. She had done the exact opposite of every one of those. “Another car's coming.”

Nick looked. This time it was the shield of the Bunnyburrow Police Department on the side. That was new, the BBPD hadn't come this far out from the town since he started his little state outs. The fox made a note of the time and which direction it was heading. Also, that its appearance was new and should be watched for again. 

“Do you plan to do this all night?” Judy asked again.

“You're welcome to leave.” The fox reminded her. 

Judy was about to hmph stubbornly, but then she got a different idea. “Ya know, I think I will go.”

She swung one leg over the branch, then the other to turn around. She lowered herself down to a small bough which bent under her weight. Gripping the branch with her blunt bunny claws to control her decent, Judy lowered herself back down to the ground. She landed on the ground with a thmp. 

Nick doing all of this was great and all. But only doing it at night and not during a time when the others were awake when he could impart the information he learned to them was almost as impractical as her not having a plan at all. Judy didn't like his nocturnal behaviors. So she was going to change them... and he was not going to enjoy it. 

“I'll see you in the morning.”

…

Koslov stared at his employer, not quite understanding the offer he just made. They sat in the shrew crime lord's office. Koslov sitting at the desk, Mr. Big sitting in his chair on the desk. The polar bear understood that the shrew resented this new quarantine for professional reasons. The majority of Mammals he kept in his employ were predators. Moving them into quarantine zones and imposing curfews on them, limiting their travel and where they could go -it made it very difficult for his men to do their jobs. 

But what the shrew just suggested was not a business decision. It was a personal one. 

“This business with the quarantine, it will only end badly.” Mr. Big informed his underboss. “Don't move to the quarantine zone. Don't let your family move there. I want you to collect your son and bring him here. This house was originally designed for larger Mammals. We will hide you here.”

The polar bear paused, considering. He knew, just as well as Mr. Big did, all the ways a Mammal could be hidden in the house. The trap doors in the floors (not all of them dropped down into freezing waters and ice), the false walls, secret crawl spaces... If you were going to hide from the authorities, the Big estate was the place to do it. 

“At the very least, until I can get you out of the city.” Mr. Big continued. He paused. Then asked, “Koslov, how old are you?”

Chaim Big knew that he and the polar bear were of an age. But he didn't know quite how far apart they were. Not that it was ultimately all that important, just a curiosity. 

“I am almost fifty, sir.” Koslov supplied. 

“Please, its just Chaim when its us.” Mr. Big waved dismissively at the unnecessary level of respect. “You remember Grandmama...” The polar bear crossed himself. “Did you know she wasn't always Catholic? Like most shrews of her generation, she was Shrewish and she lived in Mouselund. This would have been circa 1940-something when the Ratzi party was on the rise. Do you know where I'm going with this?”

“I can guess.” The polar bear nodded soberly. 

“Good.” Big echoed the nod with one of his own. “Then no further discussion is necessary. You and your son will not go into quarantine. You will stay here, and when I can arrange exit papers for you both, you will get out of the city.”

…

That morning, when Judy brought the predators their breakfast, she marches right up to Nick as he was packing away his notebook. Waited for him to carefully place the image of Robin Goodfellow on top of everything and fit the loose floorboard back over the space. 

As soon as he reached for his cot to set it up, Judy kicked the folded frame away. “Sorry, Slick Nick. But you're gonna stay up today. We're gonna get you back on a normal Mammal's schedule.” She shoved his plate of eggs into his paws. “Eat up. You'll need your energy.”


	4. Uncomfortable Mornings

Bogo didn't want any more fires. No more assignations -attempted or otherwise. When the Savage wing at Zootopia general went up in flames, he put in a request for one of the city's disused lock-up facilities to be renovated and repurpose to hold them. He used not wanting them to be housed so close to civilians as the justification. That fire might have only killed the Savages that remained sedated in their rooms, unable to get out. But it had injured countless others. Hospital staff, volunteers, visitors, and patients with already compromised health. The Police Chief's request garnered a lot of support from the city as a whole, and City Hall had no choice but to find a building and the funding to refurbish it. 

They found Cliffside. 

The old and -mostly- abandoned asylum had already been renovated by Lionheart during his own short Savage conspiracy. It didn't take much to pull down the crime scene tape, sweep the floors, and move all the Savages right back to where they started. Right back where they were when Officer Hopps found them and launched the chain of events that brought them to this point. 

Cliffside was within Zootopia city limits, but the area it was in -just beyond the Timberland district- was so remote, it might as well have been considered 'outside the city'. It was far enough away from any possible civilian centers to satisfy the concerned voters. But that also meant that it was far enough away from city services like the police and fire fighters that if another attempt was made to get rid of the Savages, help wouldn't reach them in time. Bogo could only hope that sending the only witnesses of value away with Hopps would dissuade the conspirators from trying again. 

The otter, the jaguar, and Hopps' pet fox -not to mention Officer Hopps herself. They were the ones who knew of the mayor's part in the Savage outbreaks. They were the ones who could testify against her if -no, when- Bogo finally compiled enough evidence to request a warrant for her arrest. He didn't dare attempt to arrest they city's head of government before he had a solid case that could be presented to a scrupulous judge. 

But for the time being, he had to focus on the tasks before him. The relocation of all predators withing the city. Not just the Savages from Zootopia General back to Cliffside, but also non-Savage predator residents. All predator residents were being removed from population centers and relocated to a number of cordoned off areas in each district. They were calling them 'Quarantine Zones', but that was a misnomer. The word 'quarantine' implied a total and complete lock-down. No predators out, no non-predators in. But predators were still allowed to come and go during daylight hours for work or school. But strict curfews were put in place to and any predator found outside the Quarantine Zone after curfew was to be arrested on sight. 

All these measures promised to make the city safe once again. But as the one who had to enforce those measures, Bogo realized that all it did was raise tensions between predators and prey. It was almost like Bellwether wanted both groups to hate each other. Discontent flowing through the streets like an undercurrent in the sea. You don't realize it has a hold of you until you're already drowning in its pull. 

More and more, Westley Bogo was feeling less and less like the Chief of Police in a glittering utopian society, and more like the rotten and conniving Sheriff of Nottingham from all those old stories. A presumed 'enforcer of justice' doing nothing more than the bidding of a corrupt and self-serving ruler.

He remembered what Lionheart said during their brief interview before the catastrophically public attack at Gazelle's concert that injured the pop diva and killed one of her back-up performers. It was the spark that ignited the powder keg the city had become, allowed the city council to pass the Taming Initiative, put shock collars on all predators, and paved the way for this newest round of species-based regulations. Banning new predators from entering the city, relocating predators already living in the city to ghettos, placing restrictions on their movement within the city, and enforcing curfews. It was like martial law, only selective against certain citizens. 

Lionheart said that Bellwether was doing this because she benefited from it. Bogo couldn't imagine what the benefit could possibly be. 

Bogo was distracted from his thoughts by a knock on his office door. 

“Enter.” He called. 

A timber wolf poked his head in through the door, a little hesitant and unsure. Officer Malcome 'Mal' Wolford. He held an envelope in his paw. Coming into the office fully, the wolf placed it on the desk, but didn't slide it over to the buffalo. “Before you read this, I want you to know, I didn't come to this decision lightly. This isn't some 'rage quit' because the city's lost its mind. This is me, making the best decision I can with the options available to me.”

He slid the envelope across the desk to his superior officer. 

Bogo took the envelope, ripped it open without taking his eyes off his officer, put on his reading glasses, and read. He stared at the letter Wolford handed him. The timber wolf stood, refusing to sit in front of the Chief's desk. He knew that if he made himself comfortable, the buffalo would try to talk him out of it. 

“I don't understand.” The Chief set the announcement of notice aside and took off his glasses to meet the wolf's eyes. “You're quitting the force?”

Wolford nodded. “We're leaving the city. My girls are gonna be starting pre-school at summer's end, and Annie and I are trying to have another litter. Zootopia just isn't the kind of place I wanna be bringing my family up in right now.”

Pinching the bridge of his snout, Bogo had to begrudgingly agree with him. He wasn't the 'family man' type -didn't have the time for one- but the buffalo imagined that if he was, then he also wouldn't want his hypothetical children growing up in the city's current social and political climate. Still, quitting was not the move Bogo would have made. “Wouldn't you rather a transfer? I could write you a letter of recommendation to the city police of wherever you end up settling. Or the county sheriff's office.” 

“Thank you, sir.” The wolf nodded. “But I don't want to be thought of as someone who enforced these new horse-crap laws wherever I end up settling. I don't want to be associated with this city's police -and that's a sentence I never thought I'd say.”

Bogo couldn't blame him. Knowing what he knew about what was actually going on, he didn't really want to be associated with the city either -and he was the Chief of Police! Heaving a sigh, the buffalo placed the letter of notice in a desk drawer, making a mental note to place it in the timber wolf's personnel file later. 

“You have to do what you think is best.”

And he would just have to figure out what to do with a city losing its mind. A mayor whom was a fascist in all but name hiding behind the sweet angelic person of a gentle ewe propelled into an office she wasn't prepared for. A population divided along species lines as if they were suddenly and inexplicably living in the Dark Ages once again. Now, his good cops were leaving. How was Bogo going to manage to maintain any semblance of 'order' (forget 'peace' that ship sailed the moment the quarantine was announced) without competent officers? Officers with years of experience, whom were adaptable, and knew how to diffuse a situation -not escalate one.

Not for the first time since the night of the fire in the Savage ward, Chief Bogo questioned the wisdom of his decision to send Hopps out of the city. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. The three Savages, Emmitt Otterton, Renato Manchas, and Nickolas Wilde were key witnesses needed to expose Bellwether's conspiracy, they needed to be protected. Hopps was a competent officer of the ZPD and legally dead, the perfect Mammal to go into hiding with the fugitives and keep them safe. 

Bogo had no regrets about sending the three predators away. The way things were, anywhere that wasn't Zootopia was probably safer for them. But Hopps... Hopps was still fairly new to the ZPD, that meant she was inexperienced. But she was brilliant. Was adaptable, diligent, clever, and knew how to diffuse a situation -not escalate one. She was also prey. She was exactly the kind of cop Bogo needed right now. He needed ten of her. 

The Chief waited until Wolford left his office, shutting the door behind him, before taking out a small evidence bag. In it was a rabbit sized novelty pen. Shaped like a carrot, bright orange with a green clicky-top, buttons and a small speaker on the side. It was a pen, but it doubled as a recorder, and recorded on it was the audio track of a female Mammal that sounded unmistakably like Mayor Bellwether informing Hopps -very calmly- that a predator was going to kill her. The evidence was circumstantial at best and while it didn't exactly paint the mayor in a positive light, it wasn't damning enough for Bogo to win an arrest warrant from a judge -never mind actually get a conviction. 

That was what he needed the Savages that were under Hopps' care for. While she was keeping them safe, he would maintain the chain of evidence and continue to investigate. 

It was really all he could do. 

Bogo hoped Hopps was fairing better with her charges than he was with his. 

…

“I'm sleepy!” Nick whined as Judy dragged him by the paw. He sounded less like the smooth talking, confident pawpsicle hustler he was when she met him and much more like a petulant child. A disgruntled and fussy kit in need of some firm but nurturing authority. “You're mean!”

Luckily, being a middle child among over two hundred siblings, Judy had plenty of experience wrangling difficult and moody kits. “Tell ya what, you don't have to stay up the whole day. Just spend a few hours with me and the others, and if you make it to noon, I'll let you sleep unbothered for the rest of the day.”

The fox looked up at the morning sun skeptically. It had risen enough over the horizon to be properly called 'day', but it was still early. Noon was a long ways off and he'd been up all night. “Why are you doing this to me? Don't you have carrots to pick? Or planting to do? I saw something new had been plowed a couple nights ago. Go work the farm and leave me alone.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged just a little harder on the fox's paw. “Dad managed just fine without me while I was living in Zootopia, I'm sure they can manage without me again for one half-day. Now come on. Because of all your whining and fussing Mr. Otterton and the others left us behind.”

Reluctantly, more because he just did not have the energy to fight her on it, Nick allowed the Bunny to pull him along towards the river. 

Apparently, that was what Otterton did with the majority of his days since coming to stay at the Hopps farm. He hiked across two fields down to a bend in the river where the bunnies had dug a series of irrigation ditches to syphon water into the fields and save costs on plumbing and pipe maintenance. Sometimes Manchas went with him. 

Otterton was teaching the jaguar some of his meditation and breathing techniques. To help control the Savage within. The otter claimed they worked wonders for him. Nick was skeptical. When the Night Howler turned them Savage it flipped a switch. Rekindling ancient instincts buried deep under generations of comfortable modern life and convinces, suppressed by breeding and reinforcing docility into the specieses. The Night Howler undid all that, putting a Mammal in touch with their inner beast. Returning to them instincts and impulses they would not otherwise have living in a comfortable city with modern conveniences. 

Nick didn't think a Mammal could just sit and 'inner peace' those instincts and impulses away. If generations of breeding and civilized lifestyle couldn't eradicate them, what hope did a couple hours of breathing and humming have?

True to Judy's assessment, the otter and jaguar were already by the river's edge by the time she dragged Nick over. Otterton was unrolling a wicker mat he borrowed with Bonnie Hopps' permission. She used it for sunbathing when she took the little ones swimming (as if she ever had time to just lay down and relax while she had sixty-plus kits to mind and keep from drowning), but the otter repurposed it as a yoga mat. He made the jaguar stand on the unrolled mat, ordering him to straighten his spine and relax his shoulders, arms hanging at his sides, pads of his paws out.

“This is the mountain pose, tadasana.” The otter narrated, walking a quick circle around the larger predator to get a better assessment of his bulkier form. “Relax and widen your stance, this isn't a military posture.”

Judy let go of Nick's paw and found a place to sit down along the bank. “Guys, if he falls asleep, push him in the water. If he tries to make a break for it, Mr. Manchas, you have my permission to chase him down.”

“Jeez, so distrusting...” The fox tsk'd as he likewise found a place to sit down, propped his elbow up on his knee, and rested his chin in his paw. Nick yawned and closed his eyes. “I can't imagine what I ever did to make you so suspicious, Carrots.” 

She dipped a paw in the current and splashed some water up in the fox's general direction. 

Nick opened one eye to glare at her. “Meanie. I was just resting my eyes.” He scooted away from the water just a bit more. “So, is this what you guys do all day? Stretch like anti-vaxer soccer moms complaining about their paleo diets.” 

“Absolutely none of that applies to anyone here.” Judy informed him. “Your barbs are slipping.”

“Shut-up, I'm sleepy.” The fox muttered, head beginning to droop. 

“Would you like to practice Surya Namaskar with us.” Otterton offered, turning to him with a friendly smile on his face. “It might help you wake up. You'll feel more energized after.”

Without looking at the otter, the fox shook his head. Eyes closed. Ears drooping. “Mm, yeah... exercising to not-feel tired. That makes sense. I'll take a Snarlbucks over hippy stretches, thank you very much.”

“Well, we don't have any Snarlbuckses here in Bunnyburrow.” Judy informed him. “Sorry, Nick.”

“Figures.” He muttered and started to snore. 

With a sigh, Judy cupped her paws in the water and poured it over the fox's head. “Wake up! Or else I really will throw you in.”

He flinched, jumping to his feet. Shaking his head and flicking his ears where some water had gotten in them. Nick glared murderously at the bunny. “You are going to a special circle of the Winterlands. One reserved for people who talk at the movies and the executive who canceled Firefly.”

“But you're awake again.” Judy smiled up at him. 

He hmph'd, glaring at the bunny. A muscle in his cheek twitched in an add way. Almost as if his mouth couldn't decide if it wanted to pull back in a playful smile or a hostile snarl. It seemed to settle on condescending sneer as the fox stared down at his bunny handler. “Well, since you won't let me rest my eyes, and you won't let me go back to the drying house, how about letting me hang out with Finnick. Will you let me do that, Boss Bunny?”

The smaller fennec fox never had been a social animal, and so Nick didn't find it the least bit strange when Carrots dragged him to the river and he saw that his partner was absent from the rest of the group. Given the choice between being forced to spend the morning in the company of a moody and ill-tempered predator at an uncomfortable biting hight and yoga hippies, Nick chose the former. 

Judy sighed, already getting exasperated with him. He needed to get back to a normal sleep cycle but the red fox was already starting to grate on her nerves. Then again, Nick did have an unnervingly easy time getting under her skin and in her head. She used to just assume it was because he was an uncommonly gifted con-artist. Clever and observant, and able to draw conclusions from a minimum of evidence. (He really would have made a great cop. If only things had played out differently for him.) But after Koslov's parting words to her before she left Mr. Big's estate for the last time, Judy wasn't so sure. 

'Save the one you love.'

'...the one you love.'

'...you love.'

Was that the real reason why he affected her so much and so deeply. Comments and acts that might not bother her all that much if coming from other Mammals suddenly sent Judy into extreme reactions. Anger. Frustration. Fear. Enthusiasm. It was like, whenever Nick was around, her insides became a maelstrom of feelings. Swirling and raging within her, to chaotic and disjointed to make sense of on her own. It started at some point between 'Look, you gave her a... a... a clown vest and a three wheel joke mobile...' and 'If that's what you think about predators, then you probably shouldn't have one as a partner.' -and just got stronger and more intense from there. 

No other Mammal managed to get under Judy's skin so thoroughly. Was Koslov right? Was it because she -a bunny- was secretly in love with Nick Wilde -a fox? The idea was just plain absurd! And yet... it made an uncomfortable amount of sense and didn't sound all that crazy at all. 

But regardless of how she felt about the fox, whether it was some strange interspecies love -predaphelia- or just an uncommon but perfectly normal infatuation brought on by their shared experiences, Judy couldn't afford to dwell on it. Not right now. Now while they were on the run and she had not just Nick but Otterton and Manchas to look after. The three predators that had information that could stop the Savage outbreaks. All dosed with Night Howler to keep them quiet (metaphorically quiet) and continue to conceal the conspiracy. It was her job to protect them. She did not have the luxury of dividing her focus by dwelling on an unnatural attachment to her species natural enemy. 

So, it was while she pinched the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to stave off a stress headache that agreed to Nick's request. Finnick would probably put him to work helping with the van. That would keep him awake and out of her hair. “Fine. He's over by the barn.” A pause. “And Nick, if I find you you didn't go to Finnick and just went back to the drying house to sleep the day away again... no more meals.”

The fox just rolled his eyes. “Right. Cause its not like there's nothing to eat around here.”

If she made good on the threat he could just sneak out and eat fresh blueberries right off the bush. Or corn, if he wanted something with more caloric value. He'd stay away from the carrots, though. Ugh! Vegetables were the worst. Nick preferred sweeter produce. 

He left the group by the river.

The back of his neck practically burning from the glare he knew the bunny was giving his retreating figure. But he had to get away from her. Not just because she dumped water over his head and wasn't letting him sleep. But because he just couldn't be around her. Not for very long, and especially not with strained nerves. 

Whenever he was around the bold and maddeningly assertive little bunny, Nick's breath could catch short, his pulse would pound in his ears, and his stomach would twist and jump and churn in uncomfortable ways. 

If it had been before he was shot with Night Howler, Nick would have known exactly what this was. He realized at a very young age that his preferences did not exactly adhere to what was considered normal -or even acceptable- for a fox (or any predator for that matter). There was no official word for it, it didn't happen that often in predator species for there to be a word for it. When the opposite occurred in prey it was called 'predaphelia' and was generally treated as a mental illness. Prey that were attracted to predators were sick somehow. It stood to reason that when a predator held the same preferences but in reverse it would be treated wit the same stigma. Nick never wanted to find out, so he hid it -just like he hid almost every other feeling he had since he was nine years old. 

What he felt now, around the energetic bunny-cop turned fugitive (turned fugitive for him) felt very similar to how he felt back when a cute prey in his same size-class might catch his eye. But it was different and that worried him. The only thing within himself that had changed was the Night Howler -or, more accurately, the Night Howler had changed him. It didn't take Nick long to notice that about himself either. His night vision was better, his sense of smell was vastly improved, as a grifter he'd always been in tune to his surroundings, but ever since waking up strapped to a hospital bed, he seemed able to pick up on so much more. Like he suddenly and inexplicably connected to an energy field that bound all living things. 

'Yeah right. Like Duke Skyhopper.' The fox rolled his eyes at himself and his own absurd ideas. 

It was more like an exaggerated sense of danger. That thing all Mammals had. When they felt like someone was watching them, or they weren't completely alone. When a Mammal's fur stands up on the back of their neck, or they break out in goosebumps. When their skin crawls and they put just a little bit of modern civilized manners to the side and listen to their hind brain and their instincts. It was like that. 

But more intense. 

And whenever Nick was around Judy his hind brain, his primal instincts, told him two every different, naturally conflicting, yet equally strong things. 

'Eat!' Shouted one half of his feral mind. 

'Mate!' Begged the other. 

Both screaming with identical voices. Not screaming with words but with base and elemental intent. 

Eat her. She's a bunny. She's your natural prey. And she comes to you unafraid, guard completely down. Easy pickings. An easy meal. Take her down and devour her like the Savage you are! 

Mate her. She saved your life -more than once. You can trust her. She smells nice, and is so soft. She's always hanging around you anyway. She likes you too. Take were away from the others so you can be alone and ravage her like you know you want to. 

Nick shook his head. 

Savage or ravage. 

Neither one sounded particularly appealing to Nick. But one uncomfortable truth was abundantly clear. Regardless of whether it was gluttony or lust, one way or another, Judy made him hungry, and that was a complication none of them needed right now. Not so long as they were on the run. Hiding from the very law that Judy used to serve and protect. All of them, himself, Judy, Otterton, Manchas, and Finnick, the last thing they needed was one more thing to worry about. 

So, Nick removed himself from the rabbit. 

He found Finnick inside the barn. A old building that might have a one time been used for storing grain or hay, it now served as the Hopps' garage. The family's farm truck was parked inside. Nick recognized it instantly as the one Carrots had driven when she spontaneously appeared at his little sanctuary under the bridge, announcing that she was wrong, and she was sorry, and she needed his help. He remembered how she pressed his face to his chest and how his heart nearly stopped when she pressed herself against him, unenthusiastically trying to grab at the recorder pen he held. 

Forcing his eyes away from the truck -and by extension, the memory- Nick turned his attention to the other vehicle in the garage-barn. Finnick's van. 

It used to be a bold and vibrant shade of red, adorned with a provocative fantasy mural on one side. Since beginning their exile from the city, however, Finnick had apparently painted it blue. A solid blue van. No more provocative artwork. Nick's heart almost broke for his friend. Fin worked hard on that mural. He was a bit of an amateur painter and took great pride in his work -what little work he did. 

Finnick was on the other side of the newly painted van. Sitting on an overturned bucked, a sketch pad in one paw, a pencil in the other, and a small herd of bunny kits surrounding him. 

“What are ya drawing?”

“Can you draw me?”

“How old are you?”

“Can you draw Shopkins?”

“Are you our age?”

“If you're a grown-up how come I'm taller than you?”

The attention seemed to be just a little to much for the diminutive little fennec fox because at that last question, she threw his blank drawing pad down and shot to his feet. “That's it! All of you! Get out! Go away! Leave me alone!”

There was a collective gasp as the herd of young bunnies took one uniform step away from him.

Finnick hmph'd and sat back down. 

The herd surged forward again. 

“Why are you so mad all the time?”

“Is it because you had to leave the city?”

“Is it because you're so short?”

“Is it because you had to paint over your picture of the girl-fox with the boobies?”

Nick couldn't help but laugh. Unlike their parents, these kits didn't seem afraid of foxes or predators at all. Whether that was the ignorance of youth, or Judy's progressive influence on the next generation, he didn't know. Either way, it was adorable. And -to spite his obvious annoyance and hostility- Finnick kinda appreciated it too. It was the only reason Nick could think of that the other fox didn't threaten to bite any of them. They were annoying him. But they were also completely comfortable and unafraid around him. To a predator -even one as antisocial as Finnick- that meant a lot. 

His laugh drew the attention of the herd and Nick regretted it the moment he saw over a dozen pairs of wide, innocent, bunny eyes -many of them the same shade of amethyst as Carrots' own- turn to him. Soon the red fox found himself surrounded and suffering the same onslaught he'd just inadvertently rescued Finnick from. 

“You're the one that helped Aunt Judy find the Missing Mammals! Are you also a cop?”

“Why are you so much taller than your friend? Is he really a fox?”

“Are you brothers?”

“Shut-up, stupid! Not all foxes are related!”

“Do you like our Aunt?”

“She's my sister.”

Nick stared at the two that made that exchange. They looked to be identical in age. If it weren't for the fact that one had just called Judy his aunt while the other claimed she was his sister, he would have assumed they were kits from the same litter. 

“Why are you so skinny? Is it because there's no meat here for you to eat?”

“Grandpa Stu says you're gonna eat us if we don't behave.”

“What's it like living in the city?”

“Do you live next to a celebrity?”

“Do you know Gazelle?”

“You're eyes are so green!”

“Are you Robin Hood?”

Now it was Finnick's turn to laugh. Falling off his bucket-seat as he roared his amusement at Nick's expense. The fennec fox wiped a tear from his eye as he looked at the group. “Oh, man... they think you're Robin Hood. I guess all red foxes must look the same to them.”

“Nu-uh!” Protested the one who had asked the Robin Hood question. He was a bit smaller than the others. Either from a younger litter or else the runt of a contemporary litter. It was hard to tell. They were all around the same general age and all from the same family, so they all smelled so similar. He wore a blue t-shirt that had to be hand-me-down from an older sibling because it was at least two sizes to large for him, the hem of the shirt sagging down below his knees. “Gideon Gray's a red fox and he looks nothing like Robin Hood!”

“That because Gideon's fat!” Said another bunny, female this time. 

“Daddy says its good that he's fat.” Announced another female kit. “It means he's well fed and doesn't wanna eat us.”

“That's not what my mom said.” One of the ones that claimed Judy as aunt instead of sister interjected. “She says its because he spend all day stuffing his face with pie and doesn't exercise. She says he's to lazy to be a threat.”

“Well, Nanna Bonnie says you should never trust a skinny cook!” Argued yet another. 

Deciding that the herd was adequately distracted by itself, Nick wove his way between the tiny bunnies until he was out of the center of the group. He went to stand next to (hide behind) Finnick whom had retrieved his sketch pad and pencil. 

“Little terrors, aren't they.” Commented the small fox. 

“I'm beginning to understand why Carrots was so eager to move to the city.” Nick agreed. He turned around, looking for something to sit on. Another bucked, or a crate, or a hay bale -that was a thing farmers kept in barns, right? Hay bales. Instead, all Nick saw was that the runt kit in the over-sized blue shirt had followed him from the herd. ”Oh. Hello, again.”

The kit sucked on his thumb, staring at Nick with a critical, almost assessing gaze. He took his thumb out of his mouth and hopped closer to the red fox. “I'm Richard.”

“That means your nickname is Dick.” 

“Huh?” The bunny blinked. 

Finnick snorted.

Nick realized he said something that could be considered inappropriate. “I mean- what do you want?”

Richard hopped around him. Skipped was really more like it. Light and playful. Optimistic and cheerful. “Are you sure you're not Robin Hood? He was on the run too, ya know. I read all about him in school last year. Our teacher, Ms. Sharla makes us do a report every year on a famous Mammal that's not our own species. For history. I was gonna do the Lionheart, but Jaime was already doing that one, so I got Robin Hood. He was also a red fox, ya know.”

“I know.” Nick muttered, but Richard appeared not to notice. He just continued to ramble on and skip around as if the fox hadn't spoken. 

“And he was also on the run and wanted by the government. Well, mostly just Prince John and the Sheriff. And he lived before they had cameras, so all the pictures of him were drawings, or paintings. But you look a lot like those drawings and paintings. So, are you sure you're not Robin Hood?”

Rubbing a paw over his face in frustration, Nick gave up on his search for a makeshift chair and just sank down to sit on the floor -ignoring the fact that Finnick was still laughing at him. “Stand still, Skippy, you're making me dizzy!”

The bunny did stop hopping circles around him -and then to the fox's great horror, crawled into his lap as if he were a old and trusted family friend and it was the most natural thing in the world for a baby bunny to willingly and enthusiastically crawl into a fox's arms. Nick froze. Starring down at the bundle of soft gray fur that looked up at him with innocent and trusting amethyst eyes so similar to Carrots' own. 

In an attempt to regain some composure, Nick cleared his throat. “Okay. First of all, 'Robin Hood' isn't a name. Its a title. A title neither I -nor any fox- has earned since the days of the great Hood.”

“So, then, you could be Robin Hood!” The bunny beamed up at him. 

“What?” Nick blinked. 

Finnick dropped his sketch pad again. 

Skippy hopped out of the fox's lap excitedly. Tugging on Nick's hand to try and pull him back to his feet. “Yeah! Yeah! You can totally be Robin Hood!”

As he was pulled along by the tiny kit a third his size, Nick thought about the portrait of Robin Goodfellow hidden under cot and couldn't help but wonder what kind of cruel prank the trickster god was playing on him.


	5. Better Things to Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jee-zus! I just cannot seem to quit it with the author's notes in this fic. I'm really sorry. I swear, I don't usually clutter my fics with endless notes. Seriously, read anything else I've written. You won't find nearly as many author's notes in my other stories as I've put into this one. -Anyway.... 
> 
> One of the reasons this chapter took so long was because I had planned to open it with another flashback of Bellwether's husband while he was alive. The last flashback ended with Bellwether demanding the survivors of his unit -Doug, Jesse, Woolter, Maggie- tell her what happened and how he died. I have started, deleted, re-started, and re-deleted that scene so many times now that I think its at the point where I should just give up, not let myself get hung-up on that one scene and keep marching on with the rest of the story. 
> 
> The point of the flashbacks about Bellwether's husband is to establish Dawn's motivation as a villain and explain why she's doing the things she's doing. But if doing that has prevented me from updating this story for 2 months, then clearly its doing more harm than good for the story. Hopefully I can get over this block for that one subplot because I do still feel that its important to include -villains need motivations, after all- but for now, the world marches on...

Cliffside was so far out of town, its was an absurdly inconvenient drive. But Gazelle asked Park to drive her there anyway, and he didn't hesitate to agree. He also wanted to see Rod. 

They were stopped at every check point. Prey security officers -both ZPD and mayor's task force- scrutinized Park's ID, asked him where he was going, peered through the windows at the passenger seat and asked Gazelle if she was okay, if there was anything she wanted to tell them without the tiger around. Implying what? Did they think he was kidnapping her or holding her against her will somehow? Did they not recognize them? Did they not know who they were? 

How far had the city fallen when one of its most famous couldn't take a drive with one of her closest co-workers without their relationship being questioned. 

Finally, they made it out past the Timberland District to the Cliffside Asylum. 

They were, of course, stopped again at the asylum's main gate -the only gate- but this time not because there was a predator driving. Instead of a generic security guard, the gate's guard booth was Mammaled by an officer of the ZPD, a polar bear who's name tag under his badge identified him as 'Grizzoli'. 

Gazelle leaned over Park's lap and smiled at Officer Grizzoli, thinking he might be more amiable speaking to a prey than a fellow predator. The entire rest of the city seemed to prefer speaking with prey compared to predators. “Hi. We're here to visit our friend. He's a patient here, Rodrigo Colmillo, Bengal tiger.”

“Name?” Grizzoli asked, pulling out a clipboard and a pen.

“But I just told you his-”

“He means our name's, 'Zelle.” Park clarified, reaching up to the driver's side sun visor where he kept his ID since the new laws passed limiting his movements throughout the city. He passed the ID card to the polar bear. “Sun-ha Park.”

Grizzoli took the tiger's ID and wrote down his name, ID number, and the time of the visit. Handing the card back to Park, he looked expectantly at Gazelle. 

She hadn't been carded -or anything- in years. Who didn't recognize the singer-songwriter, pop-star diva, and musical goddess Gazelle? She reached for her purse, pulling out her wallet, she passed her ID with her actual legal name printed on it. 

Gazelle Isabel Mebarak Ripoll. 

The polar bear paused on her ID for a moment. Either recognizing her as the city's famous musical resident finally, or else marveling at her unnecessarily long name. Either way, it didn't matter, Officer Grizzoli didn't comment. After writing down her ID number and name along with the time of her visit, he handed the card back to her. “You'll need to checkin again at the front desk when you get to the main building.” 

“I guess you've tightened security since the fire.” Park commented.

Grizzoli did not deign to respond. He pressed the button in the security booth to lift the gate and waved for the car to move along. 

The road was wet from the waterfall it was suspended over and the tiger drove slowly on the one-lane road. Park idly wondered what they did when two vehicles had to cross at the same time going opposite directions. But then, he reflected, the guard-booth and the main building probably kept in contact and coordinated all crossings with each other. Sure enough, another officer was waiting for them. A lion this time. Directing them to a parking place before meeting them at their car to once again check their IDs and also search the backseat and the truck for any undeclared visitors. 

“Wow, you guys really have tightened security since the fire at the last hospital.” Gazelle commented. They weren't nearly this thorough when she went to Zootopia General and met doctors Lakeson and Primal. She pulled her crutches from the car, arranging them under her arms in a way that didn't strain the joints but still allowed her to walk -putting so much weight on them was starting to hurt her underarms.

The lion finished his search of their car, handed their IDs back to them, and escorted them inside to the main reception desk -holding the door open for Gazelle to hobble in. 

The desk was Mammaled by another predator, a cheetah this time. Apparently, Cliffside was where the ZPD was hiding all their predator officers. It made sense. The Savages required more muscle to corral them, and predators were naturally predisposed to being larger and more muscular. Meanwhile, the city was having a fit over predators and the average Mammal on the street would have trouble trusting a predator cop. So, it made sense to transfer all predator officers to an assignment that both kept them out of the main population, while still allowing to do their job of serving and protecting. 

A silent gasp had the cheetah's face frozen in shock and awe when he saw Gazelle coming towards him, his body shaking with the effort to hold in a disbelieving sequel. He put both paws over his mouth as she arrived at the desk, leaning her crutches against the front of it, and resting a hoof next to a nameplate that identified the cheetah as 'Clawhouser'. 

“Hi, I'm here to visit my friend.” Gazelle informed him. She -politely- did not roll her eyes at his reaction to her mere presence. After years of being the city's most famous pop diva icon, his reaction was one she'd seen often. 

Clawhouser's eyes teared with the effort to contain himself. 

“Breath.” Park came up beside Gazelle, willing the cheetah officer to relax enough to be able to speak -and hopefully also do his job. “She's just a Mammal. Same as you and me.”

Taking a few deep breaths, the cheetah forced himself to calm down, adopting at least something of an air of professionalism. 

“I'm sorry.” He squeaked. “I'm just such a huge fan. I have all your albums, and the Official Fan Bible. I was at the concert when Rod – I mean, Mr. Colmillo, when he... he, uh...”

Both Gazelle and the tiger looked away. Neither of them wanted to remember that night any more than they already did. 

“Sorry.” The cheetah said again, also looking away. “I didn't mean to- I just- I have a problem of saying things without thinking. I called Officer Hopps 'cute' the first time we met. You're not actually supposed to call bunnies 'cute', its offensive.” He cleared his throat. “I assume you're here to visit Mr. Colmillo. Its lucky that he's one of the few that seems to have miraculously recovered. I'll take you to the waiting room.”

Officer Clawhouser stood and lead Park and Gazelle through a side door, past two more predator officers, down a corridor, and through another door that lead into a spartan visiting room. Plastic tabletops on metal legs that were bolted to the floor, plastic chairs, a vending machine against the back wall next to what was most likely the patients' entrance, and wide windows (with bars on them) that offered a disproportionately serene view of the waterfall outside. 

“If you could just wait right here. I'll have someone bring Mr. Colmillo out to you.” The cheetah assured them. He turned to leave. Paused. Turned back to Gazelle. “I really love your music!” He whispered quickly. “What happened was terrible. Please don't stop being awesome!”

Then he darted out the waiting room back to his post at the reception desk. Gazelle got the feeling that it probably wasn't common practice to leave the reception desk unattended and that the cheetah had escorted them to the waiting room simply because he was a fan. 'Please don't stop being awesome.' Shaking her head, she leaned her crutches against the nearest table and sat down in its corresponding plastic chair. 

Gazelle didn't feel very awesome. Really, it was Ashok that made her awesome. It was him and Raj dancing (like idiots) in the background of her fated viral video that really made her famous. She never would have been 'discovered' if it wasn't for him. But now Ashok was gone. The thing that made her 'awesome' was gone. 

The door in the back next to the vending machine opened and Rodrigo entered, escorted by a wolf officer.

Seeing who it was that had come to visit him, the tiger paused, freezing in the doorway. For a moment, it looked like he was about to turn around and flee back into the bowels of the asylum. He might be sane now. But that just meant that he knew what he did while he was Savage and was capable of recognizing how his actions hurt more than just the one he killed. 

Before he could turn tail and run, Gazelle stood, earning a sharp lance of pain stabbing down the length of her wounds. She winced, but she did not sit back down or break eye-contact with the tiger. “Rod. Wait, please.”

His eyes watered with tears. 

“We know it wasn't really you.” Park assured him. He pulled out another chair at the table. “You don't have to say anything, just sit with us. Please. Neither of us have seen you since- -it happened.” The tiger finished lamely. 

There was a beat of silence in which nobody moved. 

The air was so thick with tension it could be cut with a knife. 

Then the officer escorting Rod gave a polite cough. “In or out?”

For half a moment Gazelle and Park were afraid it would be to much for Rod to face them just yet. It looked like he was about to bolt back through the open door. Run back to whatever room they kept him in. Gazelle lowered her eyes first. If Rod wasn't ready to see her just yet, she wouldn't force him. Then he surprised them both by offering a somber nod and crossed the space between them, taking the seat Park pulled out for him, and sat down. 

Gazelle could have hugged him!

But the pain in her stitches made it so that all she could do comfortably given their respective positions was an awkward hoof on the shoulder. 

“No touching!” Shouted the wolf officer that had escorted Rod. He hung back against the now closed door. But watched the trio with an attentive eye. 

Park sat down opposite the other tiger. “They treating you alright here?”

Rod lifted his head to look at him. Quickly decided he wasn't yet ready to meet the other's eyes -either of their eyes- and lowered his head back down. “I guess.”

They lapsed into another silence. 

Rod wanted to ask how Raj was doing. But the fact that he didn't come with them on this visit told the formerly Savage tiger all he needed to know about how Ashok's litter-brother was feeling. Instead, he turned his attention to Gazelle, looking at her crutches or the bandages poking through between her shirt and skirt. “Should you be out of the hospital like that?”

“I checked myself out.” She announced defiantly. She did not mention that the reason she had so adamantly fled the hospital was because she refused to miss Ashok's funeral. Reminders that Rod had killed her lover while he was Savage was the last thing the tiger needed right now. 

“Ay, mija...” He muttered, shaking his head. He turned to Park. “And you let her get away with that?”

Park only gave a short laugh. “And get in her way? No thank you. You should know by know. Zelle's like a force of nature. She can't be reasoned with and she can't be stopped. The only things a Mammal can do are either ride that wave, or else get out of her way.”

“Thanks.” The pop-star growled, not sure whether or not she should take that as a complement or be insulted. 

Rod shared in Park's laugh. “Our little Coming Storm.”

“You guys...” She whined, sounding much more like a spoiled little calf than the full grown and independent steer she was. 

This only seemed to intensify their laughter. 

The tense atmosphere finally gone completely, talk then turned to better days. They recalled their groups earlier days, with Park and Rod each recounting their versions of their auditions and comparing how different their experiences were. It was Gazelle's viral video with Ashok and Rajesh that got her discovered, but it was her -then, new agent- Kiddis that thought they needed two more tigers. So he held dance auditions. 

Rodrigo had been dancing since he was a cub. With his friends, at his sisters' quinceañera, on street corners. He had excellent rhythm and timing, but never had a day of formal training in his life. Inversely, Sun-ha Park was formally trained in both classical ballet and contemporary dance. They were two of over twenty tigers that showed up for the audition. 

Kiddis was impressed by Park's resume, he almost didn't have to see the tiger dance. He was ready to hire him on the spot. Graduate of this school, trained under that master, preformed with those troupes! Inversely, Rod was almost dismissed before he could even try out. No training. No professional experience. Just what is it that you think you're doing here, son?

But Gazelle liked his attitude and confidence. She was the one to hire Rod, not Kiddis. 

There was an awkward period of the five of them getting to know each other and figuring out whether or not they could actually work together. Rajesh always was a little high-strung and didn't take well to new Mammals easily. But Ashok was friendly and welcoming. He and Raj might have been from the same litter, but you'd never meet two brothers more unlike each other. Raj took some getting used to, but Ash... both Rod and Park liked Ash almost instantly. 

The two tigers shared stories of the four of them getting to know each other better. 

“...and then Ash very calmly says, 'Of course I've been drinking, officer. Its important to stay hydrated when you're the designated driver.'” 

Both tigers roared with laughter. 

Gazelle made a face of displeasure at the idea of her late lover taunting a police officer. The story leading up to that was actually a little funny and set the stage for a perfect misunderstanding. The four tigers had gone out drinking to get to know each other better -with Ashok as the designated driver- and Rajesh ended up spilling one of his drinks all over his brother's shirt, so that later on the drive home he reeked of alcohol. Both Park and Rod assured her that all Ash had to drink that night was water and soda, but to a traffic cop pulling them over and getting a whiff of the tiger through the window, it would appear as if he'd been drinking enough to obliterate his liver. 

“Anyway, so the officer asks him to get out of the car and they make him walk around a bit and they give him a breathalyzer test.” Park continued with the intension of calming Gazelle's disapproval. “Finally, he has to admit that Ash just stinks but isn't drunk and he lets us go with a warning about the dangers of drinking.” His eyes fell on the vending machine by the patients' door. “Speaking of drinking, either of you want anything?”

Park stood, fishing into his pocket for change. 

“I'm fine, thanks.” Gazelle declined the offer. 

“Something with way to much sugar!” Rod requested. “They feed us way to healthy here. I'm in junk withdrawal.”

“Right.” Park laughed again. He crossed the room to the vending machine. Leaving Rod and Gazelle alone together. 

An awkward silence settled over the table. 

Rod avoided eye contact again. He looked across the room at Park. 

“I see they've got him wearing a collar too.” The tiger flicked the shock collar around his own neck to illustrate. “I thought they were just giving them to us Savages.”

“You're not Savage, Rod.” She tried to sooth him. Gazelle reached a hoof across the table to place it over his paws. But the tiger pulled away, curling his fingers inward to keep his shark claws away from her softer prey skin. 

“No touching!” The wolf offier shouted from across the room.

Her eyes hardened, disapproving. But she withdrew her own hoof. “You're not Savage and predators aren't dangerous! The collars are just stupid! I don't know what the city thinks they're doing but they're not helping anything!”

There was a beat of silence. 

Rod took off to the side, contemplating telling her something he'd overheard the night of the fire. He glanced up at the ZPD officer across the room. The wolf was patiently listening to a joke Park was telling him. The two predators roared with laughter. Rod leaned in across the table, lowering his voice to a conspiratory whisper. 

“There's a conspiracy in this city, 'Zelle.” He hissed quietly. 

Her ears flicked at his low voice, unsure if she'd heard right. “What?”

“The night of the fire-” he continued “-we were rescued by a bunny. The same bunny that was supposed to have been killed by that Savage fox. And when we managed to escape, we were stopped outside by none other than the Chief of Police himself. The bunny -and her fox- told the Chief that someone in this city is making predators go Savage intentionally. You put yourself in the conspirator's way when tired to take control of us away from the city, 'Zelle. You put yourself in danger. You need to be more carful. Someone is trying to-”

He trailed off when Park came back to the table, a soda in each paw. He passed Rod a Surge before popping the top of his own Coke Zero. 

“Officer Howler says our time's almost up.” He informed them. 

“So soon?” Gazelle asked. 

“Its been almost an hour.” Park supplied. 

“But-” She looked back to Rod. He had just dropped a huge, huge, huge bomb on her and she questions. So many questions! She wanted to speak with him more. She needed more time. 

“You should go.” The formerly Savage tiger told her. 

“But-” She protested again. 

“Time's up.” The wolf officer back up to their table. “Sorry to cut your visit short, but I have to escort Mr. Colmillo back to his room.”

Park helped Gazelle to her feet, holding her crutches out for her so she could take them one at a time. 

“Thanks for visiting.” Rod hugged her. When he leaned in close, he whispered, “Stay safe.”

“No touching!” Howler had to remind him for a third time. The smaller predator pulled the tiger off her. 

Park, Rod did not try to hug. He just nodded to the other tiger. “Try and keep her out of trouble if you can, and if you can get out of the city, do that.”

The other tiger nodded back his understanding. He hadn't heard what Rod said to her, but he perfectly understood how Gazelle's empathetic and bleeding heard could sometimes lead her into socially or politically volatile situations. That, combined with the high profile she had as the city's pop, super-star, goddess, meant that she was a magnet for trouble. 

“What?” Gazelle blinked at him. “But, what about-”

“I gotta get going.” Rod cut her off. “I promised Barry a Scrabble game after our visit.”

He let officer Howler escort him out of the visitors' lounge. Park and Gazelle were left alone to find their own way out.

They sort of remembered the way the cheetah had lead them and followed the path back out into the main reception area. Clawhouser was back at his desk and Gazelle hobbled right up to him, once again leaning her crutches against the counter. He gasped again at seeing the diva approach him, but this time he was much more composed and in control of himself. The cheetah opened his mouth to speak, but Gazelle cut off whatever he was about to say. 

“I'd like to schedule another appointment to visit my friend.” She announced. 

“Of course!” Clawhouser pulled up the appointment application on his computer. “You can some see him every day if you like. But we have limited visiting hours on Sundays.”

She pulled out her phone with her own schedule and began scrolling through to find the next soonest time time slot that she was available during visiting hours. Since leaving the hospital, Kiddis booked her for press conferences and TV interviews, plus even though she checked out AMA, she still had check-ups and physical therapy to attend. 

“How about the sixth.” She said. “And I'd like longer than an hour.”

The cheetah's face fell. Not wanting to tell his goddess 'no', but being forced to by the constraints of his job requirements. “Oh, well... we usually limit visits to only one hour each. For the patient's comfort and-” Clawhouser cut himself off abruptly. He was about to say 'and the visitor's safety', but thought better of it. 

Gazelle's eyes narrowed at him. 

“I, uh, I'm sorry, but I can't make visits longer, and- -and I can't offer special treatment to anyone. I'm really, really sorry.” The cheetah assured her, and Gazelle believed he was. 

“Fine then.” She switched gears. “Then I'd like to speak to your boss. How can I go about making an appointment with the Chief of Police?” She closed her calendar app and did a quick search on the city's website to look up the Chief of Police's actual name. “Westley Bogo. I wanna see him!”

“I- I can call his office and let them know you'd like to speak with him.” Clawhouser informed her. “But I don't really deal with the Chief's schedule anymore. I mostly just work the desk here at Cliffside now.”

“Just give me the contact information.” Gazelle growled, a very predatory sound to come out of a bovine throat. “I'll call his office directly.”

“Uh, of course.” The cheetah pulled out one of his own personal business -ZPD issued- cards and scribbled a number on the back. “This is the number for Precent One and the extension to connect directly to his office so you don't have to go through reception. My number and email are on the front if you have any questions. I used to work at Precent One before- things went crazy. Call me any time if you need more help. Seriously.” 

She didn't know if that offer was being made by an honest cop who legitimately wanted to help her, or a hard-core fan whom would use any excuse to get close to his idol. A Mammal in her position had to be carful. But, just because she had the cheetah's number and email didn't mean she had to contact him. It was the Police Chef's information she wanted. Gazelle took the card. 

“Thank you,” she glanced at his name, “Benjamin. That's very thoughtful of you.”

She once again arranged herself over her crutches and hobbled out the door, back to the car with Park. 

…

Richard Hopps, or 'Skippy' as Nick had taken to calling him, was an unplacatable nuisance. Almost as much of a nuisance as his sister?, aunt? -Nick wasn't sure he remembered the exact relation between the overly social and energetic bunny kit and the stubborn and dauntless bunny cop. Either way, Skippy was almost as bad as Judy when it came to getting on Nick's nerves.

To make matters worse, realizing this, Judy had enlisted the little kit's help in her quest to make sure he never slept ever again in his life. If she wasn't looming over him during the daylight hours, it was Skippy trailing behind him recounting tales of Robin Hood from his book of famous Mammals through out history. A watered down and child-friendly anthology of stories about smaller Mammals doing amazing things through out history. 

Not leafed through the book one time, just to get Skippy to shut up for five minutes. It gave short little clips of the lives of Martin the Warrior, Matthias Guardian of the Abby, Rikki Tikki Tavi, Chief Rabbit Hazel, Fievel Mousekewitz, Mrs. Brisby... lots of mice and other rodents. Then, at the back of the book, almost as an after thought on the part of the publishers, was Robin Hood.

Nick read over the heavily censored version of some prey-author's interpretation of the Robin under the Hood and scoffed. Handing the book back to the bunny kit, Nick made the biggest mistake he could have made when speaking to an overly curious and energetic child whom was on summer vacation from school and had an over abundance of time on his paws. He interjected an opinion. 

“You'll never learn anything about the Robin from that.”

Ever since then, the little bunny kit wouldn't leave him alone. After Judy brought him his breakfast-dinner and dragged him out into the sun, Skippy was there. Whenever he hid with Finnick in the barn, Skippy was there. Whenever he tried to head back to the drying house to hide from the rest of the Hopps herd and maybe get some much needed sleep, Skippy was there. Alsing about Robin under the Hood. 

“Look, kit, you can't be around me.” Nick snarled finally. Hackles rising to display his sharp teeth and elongated canines. Hopefully to scare some sense into the bunny and intimidate him into leaving Nick alone. “I'm dangerous!”

But to the fox's shock and horror, Skippy was about as impressed with his aggressive display as Judy was. At least the kit had the decency not to bap him on the nose. But he did beam up at the predator as if he'd just found his new idol. “Wow, you're so cool! I thought all foxes were fat and did nothing but back all day. But you're more like Masked Bat or Martian Mammal Hunter -were you a superhero back in the city? Is that how you met Aunt Judy? Are you sure you're not really Robin Hood? Because if Robin Hood were around today, he'd be a superhero just like Masked Bat. No powers, but lots of weapons and skills.”

Nick massaged his temples. “Skippy, can you go terrify someone else, please.”

The kit hesitated. For whatever reason, he latched onto Nick. Maybe because he wasn't getting enough attention from his own parents or grandparents (which was understandable given the sheer number of Hopps children and grandchildren). But Nick was not his father, his grandfather, or his uncle, and was not inclined to become an 'honorary' uncle either. 

“Scram!” The fox barked. 

At first Skippy didn't move. Then an idea seemed to occur to him. Nick knew that expression, he'd seen that expression on Judy's face often enough to be able to recognize it in one of her relatives. “Alright. I'll see you tomorrow and I'll bring something cool.”

Finally, he left.

Nick was blissfully alone in the drying house. 

He unfolded his cot, flopped down, and sighed as he felt the first whispers of sleep settle over him. 

Another Mammal came up beside his cot. Nick did not open his eyes, but he could feel them glaring at him. “Not now, Carrots, I've had about all the bunny I can take today.”

“I'm not Officer Hopps.” Said the distinctly male voice of a small Mammal. 

That was when the fox caught the scent. A bit late, but then he blamed it on the potent herbs hung all around the drying house. They played tricks on his nose all the time. Wet fur, fresh river water over natural body odor. A water fairing Mammal -and a predator. “What do you want, Otterton?”

There was a beat of silence. 

Then the otter began with what he'd come to say. “You were not the only one hit with Night Howler, Mr. Wilde. So stop acting like it.”

Suppressing a groan, Nick opened his eyes to look at the smaller predator. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Myself and Renato were also hit with Night Howler. We also went Savage.”

“I know that.” Now he was getting annoyed. 

The otter continued as if the fox hadn't spoken. “Yet you are the only one of us that seems to have a problem being around our hosts. You don't see Renato or I snapping or snarling at Officer Hopps or all the bunny pups scampering around this place. So stop using our ordeal as an excuse for your own ungrateful attitude.”

Nick sat up on his cot, insulted. “Who said I was ungrateful?”

“I did.” Otterton growled back. “Just now. You're acting ungrateful. That bunny put her life on the line for us in the hospital. And since then I've heard that she was the one who worked tirelessly to find me -and the others- and reunite me with my wife. I wasn't in a state to be reunited with her at the time, but that doesn't meant I'm not grateful for her effort. That bunny has done more for us -us personally, you, me, and Renato- than any other prey I've met. And snap and push her away at every turn. If you're not ungrateful, then what's your problem?”

“You wouldn't understand.” The fox averted his eyes, thinking of his new and conflicting instincts about Judy. Prey or mate. Kill or kiss. She was somehow both and yet neither. But how did you explain that to another Mammal? How would they even understand? Instead, Nick deflected the question. “Bunnies aren't your natural prey.”

The otter raised a skeptical brow, but didn't -exactly- challenge the fox on his flimsy explanation. “So that it. That's why you've been acting so much more hostile to our hosts than the rest of us. Bunnies are your natural prey, and because of the Night Howler that's still in our systems, you wanna hunt them whenever one passes by.”

Nick paused, thinking. That wasn't actually accurate at all. He didn't get the urge to hunt just any bunny that happened to cross his path. In fact, he hadn't really had the urge to 'hunt' at all. But sink his teeth into... hold down with his paws while he took and tasted with his mouth... hear the delicious sounds of a prey being devoured played through the throat of a young spirited doe bunny with deep amethyst eyes... That was what he wanted. Kill. Kiss. Prey. Mate. Savage. Ravage. “Yes. No. I donno.”

He blinked, realizing he's said that last bit out loud without meaning to. Nick looked away, not wanting to meet the other Mammal's eyes. 

“I feel like I don't even know myself anymore.” He admitted. 

Nick expected this admission to be met with scorn. It certainly was what he was used to receiving whenever his masks cracked and he showed weakness in front of other Mammals. He was not expecting the otter to place a comforting and supportive paw on his shoulder. “I can help with that.”

“What?” The fox blinked at him. “How? You don't even know me.”

“No.” Otterton agreed. “But I can teach you to know yourself. Through reflection and meditation.”

“Oh. That.” Nick scoffed. If centuries and generations of breeding couldn't rid him of his ancestral instincts and urges, then no amount of sitting and 'reflecting' would do it either. “I'll pass.”

“It wouldn't hurt to try.” The otter informed him. Then switched gears, trying a different tactic. “After all, were all the way out here, away from the city. Its not like we've got day jobs to get to or family's to care for. So, what better things do you have to do?”


End file.
